Something So Magic About You
by Aria34
Summary: "Right- the way I see it, Granger," Cormac dropped his chair back to the ground and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table as if he were about to tell her a secret. That got her attention. "You'll want to sit down and listen. Especially since you're the reason I didn't make the team."
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with JKR's universe.**

 **Early Fall, 1996 (Also known as 6th year)**

Hermione's tired eyes darted across the first of seven pages of her potions essay for Professor Slughorn. She studiously ignored the hushed laughter and conversation in the library. It wasn't any of her business if Lavender had a crush on Ron, or if Cho Chang had a new boyfriend. No, Hermione's business was, as always, much more practical than that insipid gossip. At that very moment, the most important thing was to rewrite her essay until it was perfect. Until Slughorn had no choice but to admit that Hermione was the top student in 6th-year potions, better than Harry and his new potions book. She huffed in disgust. Just thinking about that beat-up, old textbook made her temper flare.

She slid closer to the window, burying herself even deeper in her little nook knowing that no one would be able to see her unless they came looking for her. The table in the far corner, where she'd spread her books, was shielded by the shelves just enough to muffle the noise and hide her from everyone else's view. It was also known throughout Hogwarts as " _Hermione's table"_ , so everyone else tended to steer clear of it, whether she was there or not- much to her delight. Although, if she was going to be honest, she was there most often than not.

She began revising her essay, determined to hand in a flawless essay, despite her admittance into Slughorn's ridiculous 'Slug Club'. She rolled her eyes at the thought of the new Professor's blatant favoritism and bit into an apple. As she dipped her quill into a pot of bright red ink, her favorite color for revision, a heavy body dropped into a chair across from her, sending the pages of her open books fluttering. Without looking up, she dropped the bitten apple onto her potions book, using it as a makeshift paperweight.

"I'm shocked, Granger!" An amused voice mocked her. "Using apples to hold your books open- you're even worse than me."

"McLaggan," she looked up and eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then went back to editing her essay.

Her stomach flipped as she felt his eyes on her. She knew he was smiling, and somehow, she also knew if she looked up, it wouldn't be a smirk or a tight-lipped smile, it would be a relaxed, charming grin.

 _Godric, he looked good._

She stiffened at the sudden and unwelcome thought. She knew nothing about him. Other than that he was quite a good keeper. _Likely better than Ron._ The traitorous part of her mind spoke up again. He was known to be rather skilled at transfiguration. And that he was a good looking lad, from a strictly objective point of view, of course. Not that Hermione would ever chase after a pretty face. She was far too reasonable for that.

Shoving aside her train of thought, she told herself she was being illogical- only because she was nervous and not because she found him attractive.

Because she didn't.

 _At all._

Nothing about those bright blue eyes or the easy smile was attractive.

 _Nothing at all_.

The only reason she had ever given him a second (occasionally a third and sometimes a fourth) thought was because of the guilt which refused to go away, even now- a month after Quidditch trials.

She continued ignoring him in the hope that he'd leave her alone but he patiently sat across from her, watching as she scribbled increasingly disorganized edits in the margins. She was used to people watching her work, after all, Harry and Ron watched her all the time (usually over her shoulder to copy her work, but that was beside the point). The longer he sat there, the harder she pressed her quill into the parchment until each furious slash left a puddle of red ink behind.

Before she lost all control and snapped the tip of her quill, she dropped it and busied herself straightening the stack of parchment.

"Is there something you needed from me?" She asked as she slid her essay between the pages of her potions textbook, taking care to make the action look deliberate and calm.

Cormac watched her hands as she adjusted the books and writing supplies between them. He smirked as she continued fixing her supplies, clearly unable to control herself.

"McLaggan?" she snapped, clearing her throat impatiently as she brought her hands to her lap, clenching them to prevent herself from compulsively reorganizing everything.

His eyes slid away from her hands and slowly came up to meet her eyes.

"Me? Oh, I don't need anything, Miss Granger." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, tilting his chair onto the back two legs. "Nothing at all."

Hermione's mind wandered for a second when she saw how the sleeves of his uniform shirt stretched over his biceps. She shook her head clear of the distracting

thought and glared at him.

"Well then. As you can see, I'm rather occupied so it would be best if you left." She drummed her fingers on the table as she watched a slow smile come over his face.

"Uh-uh. I'm afraid I can't do that just yet, love."

She looked at him blankly, baffled that he'd called her ' _love_ '. Cormac watched in mild curiosity as her gaze sharpened and she jerked to her feet.

"Fine. You stay, I'll go." She screwed the cap onto the ink bottle and tossed it, along with a handful of quills, into her bag.

"Right- the way I see it, Granger," Cormac dropped his chair back to the ground and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table as if he were about to tell

her a secret. That got her attention. "You'll want to sit down and listen. Especially since you're the reason I didn't make the team-"

Hermione's head shot up to meet his gaze, "I'm afraid I don't follow, McLaggan." Her tone was cool and confident, but he only needed one look at her face to

know she understood exactly what he meant. His eyes glittered in silent amusement as a telling flush crept up her chest.

"Come on, love." He chuckled as he sat back and crossed his legs- ankle resting on his opposite knee. "Now I may not be as clever as you, but we both know I'm not as thick as Weasley."

"He's not thick!" Her voice went shrill as she instinctually defended Ron.

Cormac nodded at her chair and began speaking again when she stiffly lowered herself into the seat.

"If Weasley hasn't figured out that he's only on the team because you confounded me- phenomenal spell work, by the way- then he's even more of an idiot than I first thought."

"I don't know what you're talking about" Hermione shot back, "And he's not an idiot!"

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm on about," he grinned, looking disgustingly pleased with himself, "But I'd wager your little boyfriend doesn't know."

The mocking way he called Ron her ' _little boyfriend_ ' set Hermione off. Before she could stop herself, her fist closed around the half-eaten apple and she launched it at his head.

To her disappointment, he didn't even flinch. He snatched it out of the air when it was an inch from his forehead and laughed loudly.

"Shhh! This is a library!" Heroine shushed him before the other students noticed them and began wondering why they were sitting together.

"Bet Weasley wouldn't have caught that," He said, taking a bite out of her apple.

Hermione took a deep breath and composed herself.

"McLaggen, I-" Hermione began to apologize, first for confounding him, then for throwing the apple at his head. Or maybe it would be best to start with her more recent offense rather than the more serious one.

"Chin up, Granger!" He interrupted her as he stood up and pushed in his chair, "I won't tell anyone."

He walked past her, tossing the apple in the air and catching it with the opposite hand. She stared at his empty chair for a moment, then dropped her head into her hands, resting her elbows on the table.

She moaned softly and shook her head, still horrified by her impulsive decision to meddle with the Quidditch trials. "Oh God, What the hell ha-"

"In fact, Granger," Cormac spoke from behind her. She froze and assessed the situation- he stood hunched over, bracing his palms against the table on either side of her. She noted that one hand still held her apple. His body heat warmed her back, making her gasp sharply and stiffen at his nearness. "I think I rather like the idea of you owing me." This time, he spoke directly into her ear. His breath ruffled her hair, sending an odd tingle down her spine.

Before she could come up with a retort to let him know why, exactly, she would not be owning him anything at all, he laughed softly and pushed away from the table- leaving her with a head full of comebacks and a strange longing to hear his voice again.

* * *

 **Mid-Fall, 1996 (Still known as 6th year)**

Hermione heard the footsteps coming down the stairs before she saw the shadow.

She'd left the party in the common room shortly after Lavender wrapped her limbs around Ron and performed an impressive disappearing act in which her tongue disappeared down his throat. Hermione had been mildly concerned for a moment, given that Lavender, who had 4 limbs like any normal witch, seemed to have Ron in a Devil's Snare-like grasp. But Ron looked all too willing to let Lavender ensnare him so Hermione left, like any normal witch with a broken heart.

Sighing, she turned, expecting one of the sixth year boys. Harry was the most likely candidate unless he'd been distracted by Ginny or that horrible new potions book of his. Perhaps it was Neville, who'd always been able to read Hermione like a book. To her surprise, it was neither of them.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, defeat evident in her voice as she turned away from him. She had no interest in being baited by his asinine comments.

Cormac lowered himself to take a seat two steps above her. He leaned against the curved banister and stretched his long legs as he watched the swarm of birds above Hermione's head. The tiny yellow hummingbirds swirled high up, until they were barely visible, then dove back down in a magnificent acrobatic display.

"Hummingbirds?" Cormac asked as he pulled out his wand, still looking up at the birds- pretending not to notice as she quickly wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve.

Hermione nodded once, still turned away from him.

Cormac whispered a spell under his breath and waited for the charm to work.

Beginning at the base of the staircase, right beside her feet- silvery, glass-like vines began to wind around the vertical posts holding up the banister. At her surprised gasp, Cormac slid down one step and moved closer, watching her reactions as she watched the glimmering vines climb the stone. She reached out to touch one leaf and laughed quietly when she realized it felt like regular leaves even though it looked like crystal.

"It's a charm my mother taught me," Cormac explained. "She's great with plants."

"It looks very… complex," Hermione replied hesitantly, studying the meandering vines.

"Ah, come on, love." Cormac laughed and nudged her shoulder with his leg as leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I've told you, I'm not as dense as I look."

"I don't think you look de-" Hermione began, turning to face him. She cut herself off when she saw the teasing expression on his face. Rolling her eyes, she corrected herself, "I never said you look dense- I may have thought it," she shrugged at his raised eyebrows, "many times- but I've never said it."

"Semantics," Cormac brushed her comment off with a smirk and nodded at the crystal vines. They'd stopped growing and now gently swayed in the cold breeze; leaves clinking against vines, sounding like a far-off chandelier.

Hermione turned to watch the plant as Cormac brought his wand up and gently tapped one bud. Before her eyes, it burst into bloom, dozens of flowers opened simultaneously, each a shimmering rainbow of colors.

Hermione's birds fluttered toward the flowers in a graceful arc, flitting from flower to flower. The only indication of the birds were tiny blurs of bright yellow among the bright jewel-toned crystals.

She turned to ask Cormac about the charm, as always, desperate to learn anything she could from anyone she met. Before she could speak, Cormac narrowed his eyes and tilted his head away from her, distracted by loud peals of laughter echoing down the hallway.

To Hermione's horror, Ron stumbled around the corner, pulling a giggling Lavender by the hand. He swung her around, about to kiss her, and froze when he saw Hermione's wide eyes over Lavender's shoulder. For a few long seconds, they just stared at one another while Cormac watched on and lavender twined her arms around Ron's suddenly stiff shoulders.

Lavender turned in his arms and gasped, clearly tipsy- if the half-empty bottle in Ron's hand was anything to go by.

"Oops. I think this room's taken." Her whisper was laughably loud- or it would have been laughable if the three other people weren't so tense.

She turned, still oblivious to the tension and tugged at Ron's arm, whispering for him to follow as she turned the corner.

Ron took a short step back, about to go with her but paused as his eyes darted between Hermione and Cormac, narrowing in suspicion.

"What's with the birds?" He asked, trying to buy time as his brain worked quickly to assess the situation. "And what are you doing with him?" Ron's voice turned hostile as he jerked his head in Cormac's direction, addressing Hermione as if she owed him an explanation.

Ignoring both his questions, Hermione rose to her feet, wand clenched in her fist and pointed at him, "Oppugno!"

Instantly the birds abandoned their flowers and raced toward Ron in streaks of yellow, like angry little bullets. Cormac would have burst into laughter at Ron's panicked expression when he sat the oncoming beaks and feathers, but he held it in and watched Hermione handle the situation. Ron turned on his heel and fled before the birds reached him. If his echoing footsteps were anything to go by, Ron had sprinted down the corridor, catching up to Lavender- then dragging her behind him.

The birds, however, did not follow.

As they hit the wall, each bird exploded in tiny puffs of bright feathers with a faint squeak. Hermione collapsed to the staircase and buried her face in her arms, sobbing. Cormac hesitated for a moment, then tentatively wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. She stiffened as his arm came around her, then fell against his shoulder, her tears soaking his shirt. She felt his lips brush the crown of her head while his fingers combed through her curls.

As they sat, wrapped in each other's arms, the last yellow feathers drifted to the floor, joining the heap on the floor.

* * *

-M-


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with JKR's universe.**

 **Early Winter, 1996**

The library was surprisingly quiet, given that it was nearing the end of term and everyone should have been studying for final exams. Good news for the few students flipping pages and revising at tables between the tall bookshelves- bad news for Cormac who had been staring blankly at the same page for the past 18 minutes.

"Hey, McLaggan," Hermione dropped her heavy bag at his feet and took a seat across from him.

"Granger," Cormac dropped his quill to the table the instant she spoke as if he'd been waiting for a reason to stop studying. Which was exactly what he had been doing, if he was being honest with himself. He'd been looking for any excuse to put off Snape's assignment. But an excuse in the shape of Hermione Granger was probably the best thing he could have conjured up.

He sat back and stretched his arms behind his head, cracking his back with several loud popping sounds. He grinned when he realized the noise had prompted a harsh ' _shush_ ' from Madame Pince (who, at that very moment, was four rows away, breathing down the necks of some first years who had the misfortune of accidentally dropping a book in Madame Pince's earshot).

"Got the ears of a bat, that one," Cormac nodded over his shoulder, in the direction of the bird-like woman.

Hermione craned her neck, looking behind him for the librarian, and gave up rather quickly when Cormac spoke again.

"Granger, I'm curious. What the hell do you have in here?" He nudged her bag with his toe.

"Books," she answered as if he was completely daft for asking. " _Obviously_."

"Right," Cormac nodded slowly, "Obviously."

"So," Hermione twisted uncomfortably in her chair, "how's your day been, McLaggan?"

"My day?" Cormac looked at her with narrowed eyes. "It's been fine."

"Fine? Oh, that's good." Her voice was unnaturally high as she let out a nervous laugh. "Really, very good!"

She seemed jittery- more jittery than she usually was when he saw her.

He raised his eyebrow and gave her a strange look. "You came here to tell me that it's 'very good' that my day's been fine?"

"Can't I be interested in the lives of my peers?" She shot back impatiently, "I'm just very glad that you're doing fine."

Cormac nodded slowly, baffled by the direction of their conversation. "I don't doubt that Granger."

They sat in silence- Cormac watching her and Hermione desperately avoiding eye-contact. The only sounds in the library were scribbling quills and rustling parchment.

And the clock.

Although it seemed to be ticking louder today. Hermione's mind wandered at the thought of the clock- it had never been this loud before, _had it_?

"How was-"

"Right so-"

They spoke at the exact same time, then they stopped at the exact same time- leaving them in awkward silence once again.

Cormac's lips stitched as he gestured toward her as if to say ' _go-ahead'._

Hermione inhaled deeply, composing herself, and smiled- momentarily sending every last thought out of his brain. Sure, he'd seen her smile before, but it was always directed at Potter or that thick-headed Weasley, sometimes even at the many professors who showered her with house points for being the brilliant, hard-working student that she was. She'd never smiled at him like that before.

For a long moment, too long to be considered suave, Cormac just stared- warmed by the sunshine in her smile. He blinked himself out of his daze, breaking whatever spell her smile had just cast on him.

"I'm sorry I interrupted you, what were you about to say?" She asked calmly, suddenly their roles seemed to be reversed- he was nervous and she was amused by it.

"Er," Cormac racked his brain, what had he been about to say? "Oh, How's your day been?"

"Not bad, thank you for asking,"

He cleared his throat and nodded, sitting up straight- trying to regain some semblance of his practiced 'always amused, never serious upperclassman' façade.

"So what brings you all the way to this corner of the castle, Granger?" He leaned back and slung his arm over the back of the chair next to him, "besides me, of course."

She rolled her eyes with a small smile, "I came here for the books- you just happened to be in my way,"

"Ah," he nodded, playing along, "of course- you'll have to forgive me. Nasty habit of mine, you know- getting in the way of pretty girls."

The last statement slipped out before his mouth caught up with his brain.

"You really ought to work on that." She agreed, reaching across the table and tugging at his parchment to read the title- "Ressrrection versus Reanimation".

Cormac's inhaled deeply, trying to calm his heartbeat. She hadn't noticed his uncharacteristic slip-up.

Hermione's heart, on the other hand, sped up, 'pretty girls'. _He called_ _me_ _pretty_. This was the perfect time to ask, at least she had some indication that he didn't just think of her as a walking textbook. Unlike Ron, who'd sounded surprised to realize it in 4th year before the Yule Ball, Cormac seemed to like that she was a girl. Not just a girl, a pretty one.

"Resurrection has one s and two r's" Hermione spoke before she could control herself.

He tilted his head to look at the parchment between them, "Huh- so it does." He shoved it carelessly to the side, reaching toward his bottle of ink to cap it, "I'll fix it later."

She nodded once and spoke again, "Go to Slughorn's Christmas Party with me."

His hand jerked, as his eyes shot to her face quickly before looking back at the table, where his hand had knocked the tiny bottle onto its side. Where had that come from? His mind reeled as he scrambled to set the glass jar upright- not that it helped. The ink was already creeping across the table, staining the wood in its wake.

Hermione's hand reached over his to slide his essay away from the rapidly growing puddle. She swallowed her smile when she saw his hand limply resting in the black ink. He made no effort to move it.

She repeated herself, "Go to Slughorn's Christmas Party with me- that is if you don't already have a date."

"Uh… yeah, yes." He blurted out, not listening to the end of her question, "wait, I mean no-" He closed his eyes and exhaled. He was mucking this entire thing up, and now the ink was soaking the cuff of his uniform shirt. He opened his eyes and calmly lifted his hand out of the ink. "I mean, I do not have a date, so sure, Granger, I'll go with you."

There! Finally, he sounded at least somewhat like himself again. Well, like a sad version of himself with black ink staining his shirt and a complete inability to be charming or witty.

"Alright then," Hermione nodded as she stood up, "it's a date."

"It's a date," he repeated, desperately looking for something to say to keep her there for another minute. "Hey Granger, if I'm going to be walking into this party with you, you're going to have to help me out." He drawled, voice languid and amused- knowing his next comment would rile her up.

She frowned and tilted her head in confusion. Damn, she looked even prettier when she did that.

"Wear something cute- something that doesn't look like…that." He vaguely gestured in her direction as he pulled out his wand to clean up the mess.

"And what's wrong with the way I dress?" She leaned forward, resting her palm on the table, and whispered, irritated by his comment.

"I'm sure McGonagall's delighted to know that at least one student follows her rule of how long a skirt has to be." He tilted his head to the side and glanced at her legs, "In fact, Granger- I'm sure you've exceeded her expectations and made your skirt a couple inches longer."

"McLaggen-" her voice was furious and her cheeks were pink. _Gorgeous_.

Now Granger, relax. I'm just saying, you looked good at the Yule Ball," he shrugged. "Wouldn't do any harm to dress up a little, you know?"

Her lips tightened into a straight line as she pushed away from his table and jerked her bag off the floor. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stalked away, books thumping painfully against her knee with every step. The whole while, a traitorous voice in her head trilling, ' _he remembered what you wore to the Yule Ball!'_

"And love," he called behind her with a chuckle, ignoring the loud shushing from other students, "call me Cormac!"

* * *

-M-


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone! Welcome back- hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

 **Early Summer, 1998**

Hermione stood at the edge of the Black Lake, deliberately distancing herself from the nameless, faceless crowds in the castle. She'd almost gone crazy sitting inside listening to hushed voices talking, or rather, gossiping about Dumbledore, Snape, Harry and anyone else they could think to discuss. She didn't blame them for wanting to talk- no one, save Malfoy, Harry, and maybe McGonagall, seemed to know the full story of what had happened in the Astronomy Tower that night. But given that one of them had disappeared, one was staying hidden in the castle and the third was too intimidating to approach- all anyone could do was speculate. Even then, they all seemed too nervous to speak too loudly- maybe they were scared that if they opened their mouths, they'd start screaming and never stop. _That's how she felt._ She could feel an ear-piercing, heart-wrenching scream rattling around inside her- ready to escape at any moment. But she was Hermione Granger. Logical, rational and calm to a fault, so she bit her tongue and stayed silent- better to let them think her emotionless than to fall to pieces in full view of the world.

She looked out over the lake, hoping to hear something. _Anything_. A splash from the Giant Squid, a howl from the Forbidden Forest, but there was dead silence. The only sound for miles was the gentle rustling of the Weeping Willow trees at the edge of the water. Somehow that was ironically appropriate.

Even the birds had gone quiet. It wasn't just the students and professors of Hogwarts mourning the death of Albus Dumbledore- the animals felt it, and the trees too. Since his death, they had been losing their leaves despite the early-summer weather. _Were they crying?_ Great heaving sobs at the brutality of the world? If they were, it was more than she'd done.

In the midst of all the quiet, however, Hermione's mind was utter chaos. Turbulent swells of rage crashed against waves of empty hopelessness.

Somehow, it felt wrong to appear _too_ broken by Dumbledore's death- especially in the face of McGonagall's palpable anguish and Harry's numb, blank grief. He hadn't spoken to any of them since that night. Choosing, instead, to lock himself away, sometimes in the room of requirement, sometimes in Dumbledore's office. _Anywhere but the Astronomy Tower_. Ron, on the other hand, was as vocal in his torment as he was with everything else in life. Hermione had heard his fiery mutters about the inherent evilness of Slytherins too many times over the past few days. Ginny was out of her mind with panic, desperately staring at the Portrait hole as if Harry would miraculously appear. All of it had begun to grate on Hermione and she found that she couldn't listen to either of the Weasley siblings or the whispers from other students, so after a few twists and turns through the dark, she stood at the edge of the Lake.

She couldn't help but be confused by the entire situation- Dumbledore was _the_ most powerful wizard of their time- so powerful that not _one_ , but _two_ Dark Lords had been terrified to face him in a duel. How had it come to the point where he lay entombed in gleaming, white marble?

Surely he couldn't be have been killed by something so mundane, _so unremarkable_ , as an Avada. Hermione reasoned with the herself, if Dumbledore was to die, it would have been a spectacle of shimmering spells and light with an awestruck audience looking on. Not a whispered curse in the dead of the night with him defenseless and alone, but for a swarm of Death Eaters.

But that was what had happened.

She couldn't wrap her head around it- none of the many books she'd read could answer the unanswerable question. But there was only so much time she could spend thinking about what had happened- their only choice now was to look ahead. And since neither Harry nor Ron were able or willing to do it, _it had to be her_.

The moment she'd heard the news, she had acted- knowing Dumbledore's death would end many of his enchantments, she'd prayed for luck and been rewarded when her summoning spell brought books soaring through her window. They were ancient, evil tomes about the darkest forms of magic in the world. Even now, just thinking about the words on those pages made her ill, but sacrifices were required.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione didn't hear his footsteps until they were just behind her.

"Hey, Granger." His voice was rough- as if someone had run sandpaper over his vocal cords.

She turned to face him- pausing when she noticed his red-rimmed eyes. Apparently, she'd been the _only_ person in the castle who hadn't shed a tear. Well, probably some of the Slytherins as well. She nodded at him and took in the rest of his appearance- he wore muggle jeans and a scarlet jumper- ever the Gryffindor.

"Going somewhere special, McLaggen?"

He exhaled heavily and turned to the Lake, looking out over the inky darkness. "Auror Training starts early next month- they've moved up the date since..." He trailed off awkwardly, unable to speak his thoughts aloud. The words, _since Dumbledore was killed_ , hung heavy in the air between them.

"Since when have you wanted to be an Auror?" She knew Cormac wasn't a bad person- maybe a bit selfish and spoiled, as was any wealthy teenager- but the sudden noble action made her uncomfortable.

"It was a last-minute decision."

She nodded, understanding the implied words again, _recent_ \- meaning sometime since the Death Eaters had come to Hogwarts.

"Mum was _livid_ \- kept going on about how stupid I am. Even tried bribing me, then told me she'd disinherit me and drag me off to Spain- get away from the war and all that." Cormac laughed sadly and shook his head. "Can you believe it? But Dad understood, knew I'd get involved anyway so he talked to Minister Scrimgeour for me. That's how I got into the Academy at the last minute." Cormac explained. "And they desperately need people, you know, because of... everything."

Hermione's heart broke for Mrs. Mclaggen but she pushed the thought away- there was no space left in her heart for any more sadness. "Ah, yes. How could I forget the _illustrious_ McLaggen family connections."

Cormac laughed softly into the night air.

"Waste of time though, isn't it?" She scoffed, unable to rein in the harsh words. "After all, Dumbledore is _dead_ ," Cormac jerked his head toward her, eyebrows furrowing at her callous tone. "Your mum probably has the right idea- cut your losses, get out while you can." Her voice was hollow.

"I can't go, Granger."

"Sure you could- you wouldn't be the only one." She pointed out, "Romilda Vane's family left, India or somewhere. So did a bunch of the pureblood Hufflepuffs, probably Ravenclaws as well. Anyone who doesn't want to fight for Voldemort," She ignored Cormac's short gasp when she said _the name_ , "and anyone who doesn't want to die."

"What about you?"

"I'm not a pureblood, Cormac," She looked up at him, "Even if I leave- I'll be hunted down and killed. If not today or tomorrow, then in 10 years." She shook her head, "I can't escape this."

"You could try-" Cormac sounded strained, a bit more desperate as he turned to face her. "You could get away. You'd outsmart them." He sounded as if he was _begging_ her to go.

She looked up at him, puzzled by the frantic look in his eyes, "But how long? I can't make a life for myself if I'm always running." She pushed her hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. "There's no choice for me. I _have_ to fight- I'd rather die defending people I love than run away and let them face it alone."

Her hair slid loose and brushed against her shoulder.

"Gryffindor 'till the end, huh?" Cormac smiled and tucked her hair back again.

" _The very end._ " She flashed him a conspiratorial grin

"So what happens now?"

"You go off and save the world as an Auror," She nudged him gently. "Just don't let anyone confound you."

He shot her a dirty glance, "I like to think I've wised up since then." He reached for her hand and tugged her closer. "What about you?"

"I'm going home for the summer. Although who knows what's going to happen to Hogwarts next year."

Glancing over her shoulder at the castle, he spoke again, prompting her to turn and look up at the magnificent structure where she'd spent her youth. "This really was the last safe place, wasn't it?"

He didn't have to look at her to know she agreed with him.

"God, we were so fucking naive to think we'd be protected forever." His voice wavered as golden lights flickered in the windows.

Hermione breathed deeply, horrified by the tears in her eyes. She hopelessly tried blinking them away, grateful for the darkness when they rolled down her cheeks instead of disappearing. Somehow, despite everything that has transpired in the past week, and over the past few years- all the death and destruction, the thing that had made her cry was the sadness and loss in Cormac's voice. It really shouldn't have been so, he was a spoiled, arrogant teenager- not someone she would usually empathize with. But over the past year, she'd gotten to know a side of him that had dug deep into her heart and buried itself there.

He pulled her closer and took tilted her head up and kissed her, soft and gentle. Something else she hadn't expected of him. He'd always seemed like the kind to be aggressive and insistent.

He pulled away and released his hold on her.

"Granger, I-" He began speaking then paused to collect himself as she turned toward him. He inhaled deeply and said, "Take care of yourself, Ok?"

She nodded silently, afraid that if she opened her mouth, he would hear the tears in her voice.

"Say it." His hands came up to grip her arms with bruising force as he pulled her closer, voice suddenly urgent and needy. "Say the words."

Hermione winced and brought her hands up, pressing them to his midsection as he dragged her closer. "I-," Hermione licked her lips nodding uncertainly, "I'll take care of myself."

He dropped his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he loosened his grip. "There's still so much I want to tell you," he whispered, palms sliding down until he held her hands in his much larger ones. "So much we haven't had time for."

"Tell me," she urged, squeezing his hands tightly as they stood completely still, eyes closed, silently soaking in each other's presence.

"Someday, when it's all over." He tugged her closer and opened his eyes, studying her face, no doubt he could see the tear stains on her cheeks. "But promise me something," his voice was desperate as he brought their interlocked hands up, kissing her her knuckles softly. "Promise me you'll be ok."

Even now, she knew she'd probably never see him again. After everything she'd read in Dumbledore's books- pages upon pages of dark magic and Horcruxes, she knew in her soul that she'd likely not survive the year. She couldn't look Cormac in the eyes and lie to him, so she broke both their hearts and told him the truth.

Looking up at him, she shook her head, "I can't." Her voice broke as the dark hand of grief wrapped around her windpipe and squeezed. "I can't," she whispered again, through glittering tears.

He leaned in and kissed her again softly then released her hands, and the spell around them broke. They were back in their tragic, brutal world in the middle of a war. He stepped back and smiled at her, a knowing smile. One that promised her she'd see him again someday. She knew, at that moment that she'd never forget that heart-wrenching smile as long as she lived.

* * *

-M-


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everyone! Welcome back- hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

 **May 1, 1998**

Hermione cast a quick glance over her shoulder- Harry seemed deeply invested in his conversation with Professor McGonagall. Behind them, Lupin and Kingsley worked quickly, immobilizing and disarming the fallen Carrow siblings, no doubt making absolutely certain that the sadistic twins would be otherwise occupied (by ropes and gags) during the battle. The rest of the Order- the Weasley Family, Tonks, and the others, were gathered by the doors, many casting furtive spells to remove all evidence of Snape's short reign. Molly, especially, seemed to take it upon herself to repair the massive, wrought-iron windows which had been shattered by Snape's dramatic departure. It was marginally comforting to Hermione to know some things never changed. Where there was a mess, there was Molly Weasley, cleaning it up.

Snape's dramatic departure, however, was not comforting. Hermione felt like she was missing something- it didn't add up. Snape was a Death Eater, he should have been crowing with conceit. But she couldn't stop thinking about the expression in his eyes just before he retreated through the window. He'd looked hopeless.

That had never been an emotion she associated with him.

Hostile? Yes.

Malicious? Occasionally.

Guarded? Every damn day for the past 7 years.

But _hopeless_? Snape was never hopeless. Except for now, evidently.

Odder still was that Snape hadn't cast a single spell at anyone. He had silently borne Harry's vitriol and gone still as ice when McGonagall shielded Harry with her body. In fact, he'd only raised his wand at the last possible moment- as if he hasn't wanted to hurt her. Of course, it was an absurd thought, probably brought on by exhaustion and desolation and Hermione's intense desire to look for a spark of good in the enemy.

Snape had killed Dumbledore without a moment's hesitation. Killing McGonagall was nothing compared to that. But still, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that there was something peculiar about the entire situation.

She tore her thoughts away from Snape's twisted motives and gazed blankly around the Great Hall. Nearly everyone who had made the slightest impression on her life for the past seven years, bar Dumbledore and her parents, was there. It was, quite possibly, the last time she would see them again. The thought made her throat tighten. All the years of memories, laughter, petty squabbles and friendship lingered before her eyes.

She suddenly remembered the day Ron had gotten that Howler from Molly and how hard she'd laughed with the rest of the Weasley siblings at his panicked, white face. Ron still couldn't say the words _Ford Angela_ without turning pink. Her lips twitched in a weak smile. Then the time Harry had received his first letter from Sirius in their fourth year. The look on his face when Hedwig brought a hand-written letter instead of a crumpled copy of The Prophet. It was the first time Harry had ever received mail from _his_ family, not Ron's, not Hermione's- but _his own_. There were even memories of Viktor- his gentle smile and rough accent- the way he'd seen and liked her when no one else really had. Was he still alive? And what about Oliver Wood? she'd had a crush on him from the second he said hello to her in his delicious Scottish burr. So many people had died in the past few months- it had been impossible to keep up while they were on the run.

She hadn't allowed herself to give in to her emotions over the past several months, preferring instead, to remain logical when Ron or Harry were losing their heads. But the twinkling candles and familiar Hogwarts banners fluttering in in the rafters made her heart catch.

It would never be the same again.

Even if they won, all those memories of innocence would be tainted by evil. She blinked rapidly, hoping no one would notice the glassy sheen in her eyes. She knew she wasn't the only one on the verge of tears, but she also knew hers meant more to some of the people watching.

Everywhere around her, students and adults, alike, cast furtive glances at the so-called "Golden Trio". Most were aimed at Harry, but some were directed at her and Ron. She suddenly knew how Harry must have felt for the past seven years. People looking to him as if he held all the answers. She wanted to tell them it would all be OK but couldn't find it in herself to tell such a blatant lie. She had no idea- none of them did. There were still at least two Horcruxes to be destroyed- one of which had been lost for eons. And the castle, although powerful in its own way, would not hold up to Voldemort's unyielding rage. Their side was laughably underprepared.

Everyone seemed to know it too. An uneasy pall had fallen over the Great Hall- people spoke in whispers as if they were frightened to speak louder. Worried, maybe, that Voldemort would hear them. Or maybe they were just used to it- after months of being tortured and beaten down by the Carrows and Merlin knows what else.

Sighing, Hermione slowly pulled out her wand, if nothing else, she could busy herself by joining Molly. She knew if she stood still for too long someone would approach her with hopeful eyes and impossible questions and she didn't have the energy to comfort them with meaningless platitudes.

"Hey, Granger."

She paused and glanced over her shoulder.

It was him. No matter how long she'd been away, how many nights she'd spent staring into the unforgiving darkness, she hadn't forgotten his voice. And that realization terrified her.

At the darkest moments of her life, the hours she'd spent screaming and bleeding onto the pale, gleaming marble floors of the Malfoy Manor, Cormac's voice had penetrated through the pain more often than she would ever admit. As each curse had torn into her flesh and Bellatrix's vicious dagger sliced into her arm, her mind retreated deeper into itself, latching onto tattered shreds of bright memories. The ones she remembered most vividly were of him. Cormac's eyes sparkling with mischief as he teased her; Cormac, throwing his head back in delighted laughter whenever she made a biting remark about him; Cormac, holding her close, teaching her his mother's spell to make glass plants.

Even now, when she closed her eyes, she saw him. Cormac, pressing a whisper-soft kiss to her lips- a thank you, or maybe a promise for more, at the edge of the Black Lake. Had it really only been one year? She felt so much older. So much more broken.

But he had called to her so she would answer.

Turning on her heel, she looked in the direction of his voice. He looked older. Larger- broader across the shoulders and taller than he'd been at the end of her sixth year. He'd looked like a boy back then, but now he looked like a man. One who undoubtedly saw horrifying things every damn day.

She could see the burdens of the past year in his eyes, they didn't twinkle with mirth any longer. It broke her heart to think that the war had stolen away his laughter.

"Mclaggen," She looked up at him, searching his forced smirk for some hint of the boy she had left at the edge of the Black Lake. "I didn't expect you to be here."

He lifted the edge of his jumper in response, displaying a burnished pewter badge at his hip, pinned to his belt. "It's my job."

So he'd gone through with it, he'd become an Auror. Some part of her had always hoped he had gone to France with his mother.

"No, it's not, not anymore," Hermione's eyes were still on the badge, transfixed by the dull, metallic glint. "The Ministry belongs to him now."

"I don't." Cormac's voice was hard and certain. He took a step closer forcing her to look up at him.

"I'm glad" She paused, thinking back to their last conversation. "You didn't leave for France." She said.

"No, but I sent mum there, after..." He trailed off and glanced away.

"After?"

"Ah, after Dad went missing." He said, eyes meeting hers again. "Just before Christmas." His jaw was tight, angry, but his eyes were empty.

"I-" The fissure in Hermione's heart split further open. Here stood another person whose life had been torn apart by the war. "I didn't know."

"So many people went missing the last few months," Cormac shrugged stiffly, "it's damn near impossible to keep up with it."

She reached out and grasped his forearm, "I'm sorry, Cormac."

He nodded once and glanced over her shoulder, momentarily distracted by whatever he saw there. Then, without warning, he caught her hand and quietly pulled her out of the Great Hall into the deserted hallway.

An eerie silence pressed in around them for a few long moments, tense and suffocating. As long as she'd been in Hogwarts, the halls had never been this quiet before.

Cormac's eyes glittered in the dim light, "Your parents?"

"I sent them away too," Hermione slumped heavily against the wall, "I took their memories and sent them away." Her voice caught in a hateful sob as she slid down to the cold floor.

Cormac sat beside her, legs outstretched, and took her hand in his larger, warmer one, offering her comfort without meaningless words.

She tightened her grip on his hand and took everything he offered.

"My dad might be dead, but honestly I think I prefer that right now." His eyes were fixed on their joined hands, "I mean- Weasley's going into this with his entire family standing by his side. Lupin might never go home to his kid." He drew in a breath, "my dad's already never coming home, so maybe it's better this way."

He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, sighing. Hermione felt the tension leave his body. "I know." She whispered, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "I have nothing to lose here either." The lie felt heavy as it left her lips.

"Yeah. You do, Hermione." He glanced at her. "Potter, the Weasley's, the entire fucking Order _and_ the DA. You've got a lot to lose."

Silence fell around them as Hermione considered his words.

"Don't be noble today, Granger. Don't play by the rules because they sure as hell won't." His voice grew harder, "If you see Greyback, kill him before he can get you. I've seen what the bastard does to girls like you. Don't be noble about it, Ok?"

She nodded against his shoulder then spoke. "You know the world is ending when an Auror has to tell me off about being stupidly noble."

Cormac laughed wryly at her remark, "You've been hanging out with Potter for seven years. What if his overwhelming desire to self-sacrifice is contagious?"

Hermione laughed, "I'll try to suppress it."

"Good."

Hermione felt time slipping away from them. If they were lucky, they'd get a few more minutes together before the world went to hell. She needed him to know everything, about the Malfoy Manor and the Horcruxes and the kiss. She needed him to know he'd saved her life- but there wasn't time for that. She could already hear footsteps around the corner, likely the younger students being taken to Ariana's portrait to be evacuated.

"You too, you know?" She said suddenly, as she the commotion grew louder.

"What?"

"I could lose you," She felt his gaze tugging her back but refused to give in to her desire. She unwound her fingers from his and stood, "Don't let me lose you."

* * *

I. Hello everyone, thanks so much for reading! I really wasn't expecting such an enthusiastic response. I know this chapter is kind of sad but it's a war!

II. I just started the next chapter, it's during the Battle At Hogwarts.

III. FYI for anyone interested: This story will be 8 chapters long so we're officially halfway through!

IV. As always, please review, leave me your thoughts, send me your ideas, or just message me to say hi!

-M-


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello everyone! Welcome back- hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

 **May 2, 1998**

"Ron!" Harry's voice broke through Hermione's laser-like focus.

She was exhausted. They all were. Dirty and bloody with the acrid smell of fiendfyre seeped into their clothes. If she allowed herself to stop, even just for a moment, the horrors of the night would catch up to her. Lavender's shrieks of pain as Greenback ripped into her soft flesh; Goyle's blistering skin as the vicious black flame consumed his body. If she allowed herself to stop, she would be crushed by the weight of the memories.

So she kept running.

"RON!" Her blood ran cold at Harry's shout. She had only heard that fear in Harry's voice once before. The night in the Department of Mysteries, when Sirius fell into the pearly veil.

She was a coward, too frightened to turn around and face whatever terrors awaited her, so she went on. She instinctually knew she was alone now. Harry and Ron were no longer by her side. They were behind her while she faced what lay before her. Thousands of bright flashes transformed the pitch dark of the night into something unnaturally bright. Shades of orange and red lit up the courtyard beside her, cast from the wands of her friends to protect and heal one another. But ahead, it was all green. So, so much green, cutting down anyone who stood still for too long. And at the far end, through the mayhem and rubble, was the path to the end of it all- the steps to the boathouse. The place where, Hermione feared, Harry would willingly give his life to end the war.

She flung herself behind a pillar, ducking when a curse bulleted overhead and collapsed the wall behind her. The rumble of stone and shattered glass shook the earth. When the avalanche stilled, Hermione opened her eyes to an oppressing mist of dust. Ears ringing in the eerie silence, The courtyard echoed in eerie silence. she stood from a crouch, frantically searching for Harry and Ron in the grey haze, staggering back to her knees when the ground shook again.

From where she knelt, knees sliced open by the broken glass, she could see the telltale auburn gleam of Weasley hair. Heart sinking, she prayed that it was Ron. Prayed that her cowardice in not turning back hadn't cost her best friend's life. Whoever it was stood unnaturally still.

The ground shook again, and again, in rhythmic steps. As the dust settled, the origin of the disturbance was revealed.

Trolls.

Almost twice the height of the one they had faced in their first year. And Ron stood alone against it, too far away for her to reach in time. A movement to her left pulled her attention away and sent a shock of horror down her spine. Spiders flooded out of the Forbidden Forest, pouring out of the darkness in a flurry of clicking pincers. She took an unsteady step back. They were heading directly toward the thick of the battle as if bloodlust led them. The leader of the pack was only a stone's throw from where Harry stood. A crazed laugh left her lips as she thanked the madness around her that Ron wasn't facing the spiders.

Never had she felt more useless than at that moment. Brought to her knees as her best friends, her brothers, stood alone to battle impossible foes.

Words she read in a book long before coming to Hogwarts came to her at that moment- "United we stand. Divided we fall".

She stumbled to her feet, blood slicking her palms and shot two quick spells, the first, to fix Harry's perpetually broken glasses. She didn't have to see them to know they were very likely cracked. And the second to hurl large pieces of rubble at the troll's knees and ankles. She hoped it would slow the beast down until she could get to Ron.

As ran toward him, hurtling over fallen bodies, another figure ran at Ron from the side, approaching before she could raise her wand in time. Everything in the next moment seemed to slow down infinitely.

She skidded to a halt, frozen from the fear that she was about to witness the murder of someone she wouldn't be able to live without. Her bones rattled as the Troll closed in, swinging his massive club and carelessly flinging around bodies of students and Death Eaters alike. She could only watch as the mysterious assailant reached Ron.

If only she hadn't been too cowardly to turn around when Harry first shouted Ron's name.

If only she ran faster and reached Ron sooner.

If only she didn't become an unwilling audience to whatever happened next.

If only.

Time sped up again and seemed to go faster to catch up for the momentary lag. The man's dirt-streaked hand shoved Ron toward her, shouting something she couldn't hear over the chaos.

He pushed Ron again, and this time she heard the words.

"Go, Weasley! Get Potter and go!"

 _It was him._

His voice. The voice that had pulled her from the blackest depths of her soul.

"Go!" He threw his shoulder against Ron's chest, knocking him out of the way just as the troll's club came down where Ron had been standing.

Ron scrambled back and hauled himself to his feet, his wide eyes met Hermione's as he sprinted to her.

"Come, on."

Just as Ron's hand closed around her elbow, dragging her after him in a breakneck pace Cormac glanced over his shoulder. His eyes met hers and she could see sudden relief flood his features.

Relief to see her or because Ron had gotten away?

As Harry sprinted after them, Hermione snapped her eyes away from Cormac, throwing a half dozen vicious spells over Harry's shoulder. Somehow, the wave of Acromantulae was held back by one of the spells and they made their getaway, vaulting over the low walls of the courtyard and onto the rickety stairs leading down to the boathouse.

She couldn't help herself at that moment, she took one last glance back into the fray. Sickening dread overtook her as the club came down one more time and Cormac's luck ran out. One swift blow flung Cormac off his feet and hurled him into the fray of massive spiders.

* * *

It should have felt like it was all over. The trolls and spiders had fled back into the depths of the Forbidden Forest. The Dementors dispersed, unable to tolerate the overwhelming flood of hope when Neville stood alone against the army. And Harry was alive and Voldemort was dead.

But so were so many others. People she knew, people she had never met. Children and adults alike. Colin Creevy, Lavender, Remus, Tonks. So many others who lie nameless in the Great Hall. Snape whose body remained slumped in the boathouse, alone even in death.

Fred Weasley.

She couldn't go to the Weasley family right now. When it was time, she would sit by them, hold their hands and bring them endless cups of tea. But she wasn't strong enough to be with them as they mourned. Not after she heard the way Molly screamed Fred's name when Kingsley and George brought him down from the tower. That corner of the Great hall was reserved for the crowd of auburn heads, bowed in abject heartbreak.

Something in Hermione broke in that instant.

All she could think was, had it been worth it? Was all the death and loss worth what they had gained from defeating Voldemort? Hate would still exist. Plenty of people would still believe that mudbloods like her didn't deserve to live in the magical world. And they would continue to spew their vitriol to their children.

Everywhere she looked, more appeared broken than fixed by the events of the past few hours. Empty eyes and full stretchers, many shrouded in white sheets.

Harry knelt between Remus and Tonks' warm, limp bodies. Even in death, their hands met in the space between the stretchers- together until the very end.

Professor Trelawney with her arms around Parvati- both sobbing beside Lavender's broken, mangled body, a white sheet covering her from neck to toes. Someone had wiped the crusted blood from Lavender's face and slid her eyes closed. Hermione could only hope that it had been done before Parvati had seen her that way. The Lavender they all remembered took pride in her appearance. She would never think of going out in public without taking one last look in the mirror.

Hermione wanted to think that there was some comfort in knowing that these people fought and died for something they believed in beside the people they loved, but the grief was still too close. All she could see were lives that had been violently ended and survivors who would carry ghosts with them.

Then Hermione's eyes stopped on another figure, Cormac.

Cormac.

In the madness and terror of the daybreak, with Harry "returning to life" and Death Eaters fleeing like rats from a sinking ship, she hadn't paused to untangle the feelings of horror, heartbreak and emptiness that had overcome her body when his body disappeared under a wave of spiders. It came back to her now, the way the club hit with a sickening thud and sent him airborne.

He had saved Ron's life and she couldn't even bother to spare him a moment of her time. She hated herself, but silently thanked whatever was good in the world that he had lived.

He had one arm around Padma Patil's shoulders. The other arm was soaked in blood, dripping from his shirt sleeve on to the stone floor. He was hurt, but he was alive. In that moment, alive was the only thing that mattered to her.

Hermione hadn't even known that Cormac and Padma were friends. Or maybe they weren't. Maybe everyone was just accepting comfort whoever it came from. He from her and her from him.

Padma looked restless in the low murmur of the Great Hall. Her eyes darted from her sister to Dean Thomas, who sat alone with a blood-soaked rag pressed to his head. Hermione watches as Padma's eyes went back and forth to the entrance of the Great Hall, to Dean, to her sister. She looked like she didn't know whether to go to one of them or to sprint out into the harsh light of the day. Hermione could only understand too well how that felt. She supposed everyone felt that way to some extent. Only moments earlier, she had watched as harry flung his invisibility cloak over his head and disappeared into the silence. She didn't have the heart to stop him, knowing that he sought a moment of peace before the dust settled and the politics began.

Now Padma had that same look in her eyes and Hermione was curious whether she would choose solace or solitude.

Then Padma made her choice, whispering something to the silent man beside her. She went to Dean.

That left Cormac alone. For the first time in a long time, they had all the time in the world, held apart by a stone's throw of distance.

Hermione wondered whether it was her turn to make a choice.

Go to him, or walk away?

* * *

-M-


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